Always
by Lady Detective
Summary: Lilly and Scotty finally realize they can turn to each other, but it's not going to be easy. Set during and after S5ep7 "World's End."
1. Chapter 1

Author's note: Hello, anyone out there! This is the first chapter of the first fanfic that I have ever attempted to write. Basically, I stumbled onto this world of imagination by accident, and was inspired to make something productive out of my shameful attachment to television. I know this is super inner monologue-y, and probably not all that good, but I hope maybe someone likes it, and maybe my posting it here instead of in secrecy will keep me writing. So thanks for reading!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, 'cause if I did, Cold Case would be up and running again.

* * *

"That's what scared me the most, Audrey, I had no one!"

Felton Metz was screaming at her. Well, not at her, really. His memory ravaged my Alzheimer's, he thought that Detective Lilly Rush was his wife Audrey, back in October of 1938.

During their first interview, Lilly had been reluctant to play along, thinking that somehow it wasn't right to take advantage of his mental state. But when she and Scotty had come back to talk to the son and eliminate any last shred of doubt that Felton had been the one who killed his wife all those years ago, she knew it was the only way to hear what really happened, to uncover the truth that had been buried with Audrey's body at the bottom of that well for over 70 years. So there she was, sitting straight-backed in the chair next to his, embodying a dead woman.

Lilly had asked Robert for his father's glasses, remembering their first encounter where the elder Mr. Metz had asked for them, hoping the detail might make her pretending seem more real. She knew that she had some sort of acting skill—playing the good cop when you really wanted to throw a guy against a wall took talent—but this was different. If she didn't say what Audrey would have said, would it snap Felton out of it? Would they have to start from the beginning? It was one thing to play a version of herself, but a housewife from the '30s turned classy taxi dancer? Lilly Rush was certain she wasn't any of those things. In fact, any one of those details could constitute her perfect opposite.

Taking a moment before she entered, she thought about the picture that had taken residence on her nightstand for the past few days. Audrey had clearly been a beautiful woman, easily loved by the people she met, but through the course of the investigation, Lilly had learned just how strong Audrey had been. She tried to keep her family together during the Depression. She went without so her son wouldn't go to bed hungry. She took a risky job at a time when married women weren't taking any jobs at all, and perhaps most importantly in Lilly's mind, she took pride in her new self.

_Strength and beauty_, Rush thought. _At least I had those things at some point._ With a deep breath, she stepped into the room and into character, forgetting about her uncharacteristic nerves. Besides the unusual means to a confession, there was just something about this case that made her want a confession more than usual.

The move with the glasses had worked perfectly, and Lilly had easily fallen into the right line of dialogue. She hadn't said more than a few sentences before Felton started getting mad. In fact, she had almost broke character to smile when she saw Scotty tense up out of the corner of her eye. _A 90-some-year-old man, and Scotty's still worried about me getting hurt._ Then, in an instant, her amusement turned bittersweet. He wasn't just being his usual overprotective self. But just as soon as the thought entered her mind, she forced it out. She had a confession to get.

"Felton, you're not the man I once loved…" The words seemed strange coming from her mouth, but they had the desired effect. Felton's elderly exterior betrayed the young man from all of those years ago, and the truth came out in their reenactment of that night almost to the tragic end. Scotty, on edge the whole time, had arrested Felton Metz as soon as he stood with the intention of strangling Lily as he had Audrey all those years ago, still bellowing at her until the cold metal of the cuffs broke him out of the past.

Lilly had been just a few inches from him when he stood, but she was paralyzed by his eyes—dark with anger, fear, and underneath, deep, deep pain. For a split second, the role she had been playing became absolute reality. But the spell broke along with his memory, and now, with Scotty standing behind him, looking at her questioningly, those eyes that had so captivated her were mere husks—just dull and a little confused.

As she and Scotty walked out of the house with Felton, Lilly didn't feel the closure she normally enjoyed at the end of a case. She felt somewhat hazy, like someone had mucked up the dirt at the bottom of a pond, and she had to stay very still to wait for it to settle. Scotty had noticed the difference. He always did. After placing Felton in the back, he stood between her and their car.

"You okay, Lil?"

His question had almost startled her, but she managed to recover with little hint to the real source of her problems.

"Just the side effects of time travel, Scotty." She gave him the best smirk she could muster while walking to the passenger's side and hopping in.


	2. Chapter 2

So, I knew this would be tough, but it's turning out to be a lot harder than I expected. Mostly because this story appears to have a mind of its own, and it keeps wanting me to write every single thing I ever wanted to happen in the show. Hopefully, I can hold on to it long enough for a half-way decent story.

Disclaimer: If I owned Cold Case and all of its characters, there would be an excellent crossover between it and the current SVU where Scotty finds out he's got a secret twin brother.

* * *

Scotty just shrugged, by now used to the terrible lies she had been giving him in response to his concern. He got in to drive, and they didn't say another word on their ride back to Central.

He knew there was no use in pushing harder. He even knew he probably should just give up asking, but there was no hope for that. He couldn't help caring! Every time he tried to help, she would brush him off. And then he'd get irritated and close himself off to her. Without fail, he would realize the insanity of wanting her to feel differently when she just wanted him to do the same. Finally, he'd just end up mad at himself.

God, he was so mad at himself all of the time now. For letting her go into the observation room; for not shooting that crazy sonofabitch in time; for how he hadn't even noticed her against the wall, bleeding out; for being so scared as she struggled to hold on to life; for being so powerless. He was mad for caring so much.

It had been months by now, not that that mattered; the wounds were as fresh as if it were just last night. Hell, he still blamed himself for Elisa. Now, driving along with a senile murderer in the back seat, he was mad again. For pitying himself; for needing to be some sort of goddamned superman; for thinking about how much he was hurting and how fresh it was in his mind when the woman who had a new scar from a bullet ripping through her chest was sitting silently next to him.

Through the silence, Scotty knew that for Lilly it was always on her mind. Happening again and again, night after night.

He could only imagine her nightmares. Was it the exact moment she got shot over and over? Was it the time she spent being this psycho's hostage? He knew her well enough to know that whatever her dreams were, they tormented her beneath that ice queen exterior—besides, it was starting to show on the surface. Anyone with eyes could tell that she hadn't slept more than 4 hours any given night. She was so tired, she couldn't even come up with half-assed excuses anymore. He would have laughed if he hadn't known the truth.

Lilly Rush stayed out late drinking with friends? Man, what friends?

It had never been this bad.

They had been in plenty of stressful situations considering how cold their jobs were, but there was only one other time that could come close. He thought back to how it was after what the uniforms in their department whisperingly called "the night in the woods." It was legend now, an easily convincing scary story if you hadn't been around to experience it yourself. Lilly and him had never talked about what happened in the hour before she shot one of Philly's most infamous serial killers, George Marks, but there were plenty of rumors to fill that gap in the storyline.

What was it with this woman and coming so close to death?

Scotty knew that what happened in that attic was probably worse than any of the theories the office had come up with, because he saw it in her eyes. He didn't understand how no one else saw it—she may be cold when it came to emotions and sparing when it came to explanations, but the thing about Lilly Rush is, you could see everything in those ridiculously blue eyes. _They ain't kiddin' about that "window to the soul" stuff, _he thought. Sure, she built up walls better than anyone he knew, but if you took the few crumbs she had dropped from time to time, and if you had the balls to stare down that glare, you could definitely see the storm underneath.

When she came out of the Woods, he didn't want to look, knowing that while she may have come out physically unharmed, inside, she was shattered. And Lilly Rush didn't like being broken. In the yard where the heads of George's victims once lay in witness to a horrible crime from years ago, when she had tried to assure him and Vera and Jeffries, these tough detectives who cared so much about her even when she tried not to let them, that she was actually alright, he had caught her glance for the briefest of moments, and he felt, well, everything. All of the nameless terror washed over him. But then she turned and walked away. Tall, and strong, and so unspeakably fragile.

Anyway, she had been tired for months after, but the thing is, she had gradually got better. Or at least whatever better is for Lilly Rush. Not this time. In fact, if Scotty knew her at all, he'd swear the nightmares were getting worse.

He was having dreams, too. Not as often as her, he bet, but pretty damn awful. He'd probably have one tonight, laughing bitterly at himself for letting an old man get to him. It was always the same. He'd shot much too late, and she bled out, set up against the wall like some broken china doll, so beautiful and so cold. There was always so much blood. And he always cried so hard that he woke himself up, still gasping for air. But there's no way anyone would ever get to know that. They were just partners, for God's sake, and she was still alive! There he was, mad at himself again and irrationally mad at her, just for getting hurt—and for making him feel that way. A way that he was having trouble defining.

He quickly glanced over at Lilly, as if somehow she could sense his secret. She was still distracted by something, looking out the window without really looking at anything, and searching her perfectly still face, he wondered if she woke up from her dreams crying. He wondered what it would be like to see her cry. What it would be like to comfort her… He snapped his focus back to the road and scolded himself. What was he thinking? _If Lil was a guy, you wouldn't be thinkin' about holdin' her when she cries, Valens._ He took some comfort in knowing that it would never, ever, ever happen, even if he really wanted it to. Not with the Ice Queen of Homicide. But he did really want to. And he couldn't shake the thought that his desire wasn't about seeing the mystery underneath, her without her walls, or him getting to be the hero. At least, those weren't the only reasons.

This time Lilly snapped him out of his thoughts. "You planning on getting out, Scotty?" She said with a half smile. They had been sitting in front of police headquarters. Scotty smiled back, silently cursing his lack of witty comeback. They both got out and took Felton along with them, silently thanking whoever it was out there for making their prisoner so unaware.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** Happy New Year, everyone! Thank you for the reviews and follows and favorites, they were quite a nice surprise when I got back from Philly! I hope this chapter will be to your liking. I'm on a Lilly kick, so I decided to do a few of her chapters in a row instead of one really long one. Don't worry, Scotty's omniscient narrator will be back soon.

On a vaguely related note, anyone else notice how the episodes written by Danny Pino have extra Lilly/Scotty moments?

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Cold Case, 'cause if I did, Mr. Pino would be given free rein to write. Among other things...

* * *

Once Metz had been booked, news of his confession had worked its way through the building, and everyone wanted to hear how Rush and Valens had managed to do it. The squad had solved older cases before, but this was definitely their oldest still living doer. Nothing like finally getting justice almost 70 years later. Plus, there was something about the "so cold it's frozen" ones that lent themselves to storytelling. This one in particular was already famous, a part of the city's history. The woman who had disappeared at the End of the World. Lilly almost couldn't believe that they had written her final chapter, and in such an unusual way.

As they put their guns in their lockers, Lilly turned to see Scotty with a big, boyish grin plastered on his face, so eager to tell the gang and so easily forgetting whatever it was that had been distracting him in the car. Taking the cue, she shoved her own distractions aside. It wasn't difficult—she was already trying to figure a way to keep him from telling the whole thing himself, even if the effort would probably be futile. With stories, just like with cars, Scotty Valens liked being in the driver's seat.

The truth is, she didn't really mind. Scotty's emotions had a way of influencing everyone around him, and his enthusiasm could make anyone smile. Even Lilly Rush. In fact, he was the only person who could always lighten her mood when he tried. Something about his stupid jokes and dimpled grin…

"You guys ain't gonna believe how we got this one!" Scotty strode in to the squad room towards Kat and Vera, his voice loud enough to get the whole room's attention.

Lilly cocked an eyebrow right away in response. She loved watching him tell their stories—but she loved teasing him just as much.

"_We_, Scotty? I didn't realize you joined me in playing a taxi dancer." Her eyes twinkled as she walked in behind him.

Nick got wide-eyed real quick. "You mean…You…" His wheels were turning, but not fast enough.

"You _pretended_ to be Audrey?" Kat jumped in with genuine surprise.

Lilly swore she saw Scotty wink at her. "Lil's right, I didn't have nothin' to do with it." He played humble for a half a second before launching into his grand open. "Today's confession comes to you thanks to the performance of one Miss Lilly Rush as Audrey Metz, back from the dead."

His audience was hooked. Though the oddity of a successful interrogation with no questions didn't need much embellishment, Scotty pulled out all the stops. With an odd sort of pride, Lilly took a seat on the desk behind him, content to sit and listen and smile at his version of the day's events.

Paperwork could wait—at least for a few minutes.

* * *

The consensus was to have a celebratory drink at Jones'. With the dramatic flair of the confession, Scotty's storytelling, and the old time charm of the era—murder not included—everyone was in a lighter mood than usual.

Lilly was happy about the case, too, and she did like spending time with the gang, but she didn't know if she could handle a night out. With her recent lack of sleep, her ice queen reserves had been running low. God, did she want to sleep. Not that she had ever depended much on it—her passion for solving murders and a history of nightmares prevented that—but ever since the shooting, it was all she could do just to get four straight hours. And what she did get didn't feel like sleep at all but some anesthesia-induced haze. She woke up every night just like she had in the ICU—disoriented and in pain. It was one thing to hold it together at work, but drinks meant interaction, laughter, loud noises…

But to not go out would be worse for maintaining her image of normality. Especially when she was already feeding Scotty bullshit. She knew he wasn't buying any of it, but she really felt like she had to prove she was okay to him. With everyone else, it was just about being the tough cop, about staying in her job, about avoiding the psychiatrist at all costs—not letting them know her weakness. But with Scotty, it was more than that. She wanted him to know that he had been there for her. He had saved her, even if it sometimes didn't feel like it. She knew innately that he would never be okay until he thought that she was—but she was having a much harder time convincing him than she had expected.

So she joined them. Scotty ended up telling the whole confession story again for Boss and Jeffries' benefit. Then, emboldened by alcohol and with no work to distract then, they turned the inevitable discussion of the blonde detective's possible past life as a 30's era housewife turned taxi dancer.

"Nah, I don't see it." Nick took another slug of his beer and shook his head, imagining the terror that Lilly Rush could inspire with a single glare.

"Aw, c'mon Vera, I see it jut fine." Kat chimed in to a surprised look from Lilly. Kat was always one to pick and win fights with Nick, but Lilly hadn't expected her to join in this debate. Kat sensed her colleague's apprehension and turned to face her. "Okay, maybe not the homebody mother, dutiful wife pre-depression part, but definitely taxi dancer Audrey." She made her case to the rest of the group around the crowded table. "They're both smart, tough…scrappy! If there's a girl you want around in rough times, it's Lil."

"Plus," Jeffries chimed in with a smooth smile, "It's not hard to believe that every guy in the joint would want to buy her dances."

Scotty let out a low whistle in agreement. Despite her best efforts, Lilly's cheeks turned a deep rose, encouraging more chuckles from the group. Looking to deflect the sudden compliments and her resulting discomfort, she responded conspiratorially, "Well, from what I hear, Kat's the one who's got all the tickets."

Jeffries and the Boss looked at each other before bursting into deep laughter, while Kat crossed her arms and smiled, dipping her head in acknowledgement.

"What do you say, Lil? We ditch this homicide gig and open our own dance hall?" She said, nudging Lilly with a smile. Lilly let out a snort. She loved having Kat Miller around.

"I guess I better get out of here before I start making career decisions I regret." She took the last swig of her beer and stood up, pleased at her exit. She had stayed long enough that no one would call her out on it. In fact, Kat had used the opportunity to head home to Veronica, leaving the men to turn to the day's sports recap. As she stepped out into the cool night she sighed.

She had made it through.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** Here's the rest of Lilly's Night! Scotty to follow.

**Disclaimer**:If I owned Cold Case, there probably would be a Cher themed episode. Just sayin'.

* * *

Stepping through the door, Lilly immediately plopped on the couch, ever grateful for the fuzzy, warm bodies that climbed up to meet her. She pulled Tripod up to her chest and gently sank back into the cushions, stroking her feline companions absentmindedly. She knew she should get up, get changed, get ready for bed, but she had been delaying it later and later into the evening and early morning for weeks now, watching mindless TV long past the infomercials for cooking utensils no one could ever need, until her restless four hours would end exactly when she needed to get up for work. That way, she didn't have to try to go back to sleep.

It wasn't just the struggle to decompress—it was fear. She was afraid of her dreams, of how she felt when she woke up. Of suffering through it again and again. She was only tough enough to face it once a night. Or at least that was her excuse.

Olivia had snuggled up next to her, and Lilly's eyelids fluttered shut. _I should at least try my own bed_, she thought as she struggled to open her eyes again. She didn't know why, but she had been resistant to staying in her own room. It was somehow attached to the shooting for her, even though she would never be able to explain how.

At first she'd just fall asleep on the couch, but after a couple of nights, the crick in her neck certainly hadn't helped anything. She had moved semi-permanently to the daybed. Not that it had helped much either, but she liked the idea of confining her fears and struggles to that room like it was her own personal sick ward.

One day, she'd be able to go back, free and clear of this particular trauma. She just had no idea when.

At least she wouldn't hold out any longer tonight. Sheer fatigue had made that decision for her. She sat up slowly, hanging on to Tripod, not wanting to let go, as if just being close to another living being would make her stronger. Perched on the edge of the couch, after what felt like forever but wasn't anywhere near long enough, she released her hold on the cats and stood up, walking purposefully to her room, readying herself for the battle ahead.

When she came out of the bathroom with nothing left to stand between her and sleep, Tripod and Olivia had already taken up their positions, sitting solemnly on the bed, waiting to see if she would stay. It was almost funny, how serious they seemed. For some odd reason, Lilly couldn't help but be reminded of Scotty earlier in the day, waiting patiently, dark eyes full of concern. She smiled briefly. He was more like a puppy than her damaged cats, who were now meowing to reclaim her attention.

"Not tonight, girls," she said softly and turned off the lights.

* * *

_Bright white light. Darkness. The light. Again. Coming into focus. Fluorescents. Precinct? Hospital. Rushing by so fast. It's me. I'm moving. Rushing by the lights. But I can't move…I can't breathe. Why can't—"I need 10ccs…Severe gun shot wound…Critical…Stay with me, Lilly!" Stay with you? Me? Crushed. No, shot. Shot. I was shot. I'm dying. "Lilly? Lilly? Is there anyone we can call? Do you have anyone we can call?" Not looking up anymore. I…I'm looking at me. Oh God, am I really? Is it really me? So pale. "Is there anyone I can call? Lilly?" Is there anyone they can call? Anyone? Those eyes. My eyes… Can't…breathe…_

Lilly woke up as if someone had kicked her in the gut. Her hand flew to her heart as though she could manually slow down its beating. Failing at that, it soon moved to right above her still prominent scar, feeling the divot in her chest beneath the thin fabric of her shirt, the blood pulsing underneath the damaged skin.

She took in the deepest breath she could, her chest rising under the pressure of her hand, the bones still sore. Sucking in a few more gasps, she had taken to breathing somewhat normally while staring into the darkness, taking in the stillness of the night. Finally, wiping the cold sweat from her face, she glanced over at the clock.

3:27. No man's hour.

This one had hit her even harder than usual. And she almost lost her breath again remembering why.

The eyes.

She now knew exactly why what she had seen in Felton had been so striking, enough to freeze her where she stood. It wasn't just the rage. She had recognized so much of what she saw from her own dreams, hovering above herself, looking into those blue eyes whose color belied their depth. She saw the primal fear. The sorrow. The profound understanding that she was alone.

She had recognized his eyes as her own.

But Felton had lied to himself. He had Dobber at the end of the world. Lilly Rush, on the other hand, had no one.

She suddenly felt very awake. She never wanted to see those eyes again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note: **Here's Scotty's night! (Also, I still don't own anything.)

* * *

_Crouching, looking up at the mirror, voices rising on the other side. Lilly's voice. Standing, staring—at me. For a split second. Is he directly in front of me? Where's Lil? I have to shoot. Now. Lil said now. The mirror shatters. A glass waterfall. It's so dark inside. He's not standing. He's not standing! I got him! But…Lil? There's Jeffries. What's he kneeling next to? Lilly! No. No, no, no, no, no. She looks like a ghost. Don't think like that, stupid! She'll be fine! Fine. Go stop the bleeding. How does she have so much blood? It keeps coming. Seeping through my fingers. More pressure. More blood. "Stay with me, Lilly!" C'mon, c'mon, c'mon. Where's the EMT? Where's Jeffries? Just us. Why is she looking at me like that? Can't take it. C'mon, Lil, I didn't hurt you. Did I? Was it me? I didn't hear the other shot... God, Lil, you're so brave. Just stay with me, Lil. "Stay with me." Not responding. Staring into the blue…she's not focusing. Holding her face. So cold. No. So pale. No. So…_

"No!" Scotty jolted awake, his scream still ringing through his room. He looked around, checking his surroundings.

He was in his bed. Lil was alive. She had been for months.

Slowly, his fists released the sheets at his side from their grasp and his hands came up to his head. He sighed and leant against the headboard, trying to rub the image of her face from his eyes. He had been right about having the dream tonight, but he hadn't expected it to be so vivid.

Though he wasn't surprised. Scotty Valens' passion was not tempered by sleep.

He didn't look at the clock. Whatever time it was, it was too early. It didn't matter anyway. As usual, he wasn't going back to sleep tonight. Not with Lilly in his head.

This time was different though. He didn't turn on the TV or head to the kitchen to try and get his mind off of it, off of her, but instead he slowly lay back down, letting himself sink into the thoughts that had been swirling around in the back of his head since that afternoon.

He couldn't help it if he was protective, okay, maybe overly so. He knew she could take care of herself, better than anyone he knew. That didn't make a difference. Maybe it was just because of how he was raised, or how he took the lead in his personal relationships with women. He was the tough one, the protector, the knight, and that didn't disappear just because Lilly was pretty much the opposite of the damsels he dated. Plus, they were partners—they were _supposed_ to look out for one another. He'd act the same if anyone else on the squad got hurt.

Wouldn't he?

He'd get angry, sure. Anyone trying to hurt his co-workers—his friends—had better watch out. And he'd be there for them, no doubt.

But nightmares months after the fact? Haunted by ghosts that weren't there? Being so afraid of losing her—them?

Though his theory hadn't been put to the test, and he prayed it never would, Scotty couldn't help but think he would never have this hard of a time moving on if it had happened to anyone else—Boss, Vera, Will, even Kat.

_All right, so it ain't a girl thing or a friend thing… it's a partner thing, _he thought, _Nothin' more than that_. He and Lil were a step beyond team members. He had spent the most time with her since coming up to Homicide; she was responsible for him getting hooked on the cold jobs he had once wanted to dismiss outright. Hell, they had been to Tennessee together. If 20 hours on the road doesn't forge some sort of bond, something is wrong with you.

In a weird sort of way, she was his best friend. Despite all of the things they kept from each other, they had this sense of understanding. Personally and professionally. When they were in the box with a suspect, they interrogated him like they had been rehearsing it for months. Their dynamic worked. They fit.

Outside of work, they still got each other, but there was a whole lot less talking. Scotty had to admit that most of the time he was just as bad as her.

After Elisa, she had put herself out there for him. A message on his voicemail, a kind glance—small things, but more than he could have ever imagined. And he ignored it. He talked to Jeffries, Nick, even Kat, but he couldn't bring himself to talk to Lil. She didn't push. She knew not to push. But she had been there, if he had just been able to ask for her. Before he fucked it up by sleeping with Christina.

At the mere thought of it, he shivered involuntarily, trying to shake the memory away.

Talk about regrets. He and Lilly had moved past it, in their own way. Honestly, that argument in the lobby in all its fury had been one of their most open conversations. It was cruelly funny. Maybe they were just trying to avoid a repeat of that disaster when they closed off to each other.

Scotty found it strange that he knew her so well while knowing so little about her. He wished it could be different. He wished that they could hash it all out in the open, maybe with a beer or two and a hug or two. But "hey" was as far as it got.

He'd just have to be okay with that, and if that's what it took to keep being her other half, he definitely was. She was a kick-ass detective, and even with her flaws, the best partner he could imagine. He admired her. He respected her. He loved her.

_I love her?_

Now it was time for television. Quick.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: **I would like to apologize in advance for any errors, the delay, and this not-so-exciting chapter. I'm getting impatient, so I know you all probably are as well, and my only offer of consolation is that we know, barring the excessive consumption of alcohol, Lilly and Scotty would need years to stop being blockheads. Don't worry, it won't take that long!

* * *

When the detectives got back in to work, Lilly and Scotty were acting a lot more like zombies than the previous night out would give them an excuse for, but no one said anything. Honestly, the two of them might have been the only ones to notice.

Not only did they have a better read on each other than anyone else, the team had been immediately sucked in to a terrible case. Any leftover celebration was gone. They had a serial killer to catch.

Potential teasing fell to the wayside as the team threw itself into finding him before he found his next victim. Soon, everyone looked just as ragged as Lilly and Scotty.

Lilly in particular took advantage of the need to work, though she hated herself for the relief she got from it. She would much rather suffer a few sleepless nights from her own terror than let a psycho torture innocent boys.

Both detectives struggled with their troubles in the weeks and months that followed, but the cases provided some much needed distraction. In fact, things were kind of getting back to normal. Sort of. Really, what needed to be dealt with had been pushed so far under the surface that no one acknowledged it.

Watching Lilly, Scotty sometimes felt that she was finally getting better, getting some sleep. But really, he knew she was just getting better at hiding it. Sometimes, the deep dark would get the opportunity to bubble up to the surface, mostly in little things like the way she'd stay at headquarters late into the night, or how she would close out the world for a few seconds, head in her hands.

In those same moments, Scotty rehashed that night he sat up in his bed, trying to work it through again and again, hopefully coming to a different conclusion. He had been tired; that was it. "Love" wasn't the right word. He cared about her. He was worried. But he certainly wasn't going to start talking to her about it. About anything. Despite telling himself that nothing had changed, he was having a hard time being normal around her. Like when you start to think about your breathing and then you can't forget.

Lilly took the opposite route. She hadn't let herself think about that night. At least, she had tried not to. She still had the mandatory psych eval sessions to go to. It was almost funny that this stranger thought that she could get the mysterious Lilly Rush to open up. As if somehow, this random doctor swore she had the key to a lock that no one knew existed.

Lilly didn't talk to anyone. Especially not to some department-appointed shrink. But this wasn't about "sharing;" it was about proving to everyone that she was capable, resilient; that this psycho, just one of the many she had encountered, hadn't succeeded in taking a part of her, hadn't succeeded in harming her beyond the crushing blow of his bullet.

These hours—it was bad enough they took her away from where she was needed, but it was worse that they trapped her with her own thoughts. Trying to convince this doctor that she was well meant that she had to convince herself. And she was failing miserably.

Once, just once, Lilly had admitted her dreams and the real fear behind them, hoping somewhere deep down that what people said would be true, that letting it all out would fix everything. But she felt no such release. Just pain, weakness, embarrassment. And she lashed out in response. She did feel bad about hurting the doctor; it wasn't like she was the cause of any of Lilly's problems. But honestly, if she couldn't deal with her own daughter, how could she deal with Lilly?

At work, every once in a while, during a lull in a case, she would catch Scotty looking at her. Not so much catch, as feel. She wouldn't turn to him, but would just sit there, aware of his focus. His stare enveloped her, but it wasn't oppressive or threatening, just positively warm. In those moments, she sometimes thought about talking to him, at the very least properly thanking him for her life, for being there. She reasoned that it wasn't just this feeling—they were partners, and she had probably told him more than anyone else.

But it would just be too weird. How would she even start that conversation? They never just talked. When they did, it was always spurred by something else-a case, an event,...Christina. They cared about each other, but as partners. Partners talked about work and things that might affect work, and that's it. And she wasn't about to let this…this thing she was in, affect her work.

Besides, with this busy stretch, they had cut down even more on the amount of time and talk they had together. An active bomber, ignored rapes, and Neo-Nazis didn't exactly facilitate partner bonding.

* * *

As time went by, they closed more cases, and Scotty felt himself sneaking more and more looks. He kept thinking back to that early morning all those weeks ago when his addled brain finally put words to what he had been feeling for Lilly Rush. He couldn't deny it any more. Okay, so he really did love her. That didn't mean things had to be any different. They were partners, great ones, and that couldn't change. So instead of denying, he tried to ignore it, or at the very least reclassify it.

He loved her like a sister.

That wouldn't work for more than a few seconds before he'd get freaked out thinking about how beautiful she was.

Like a best friend.

He didn't think you were supposed to want to kiss your best friend.

What the hell was he doing thinking about Lil that way? This was going to be tougher to work out than he thought. And if she found out...

He resolved to just think about work. To just be her partner. Things would be fine.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN:** Some quotes are directly from the relevant episode, others aren't at all. As always, I apologize for any errors!

* * *

It was already late when Boss came into the squad room. Scotty had been counting the number of pages of paperwork that stood between him and home. The cases combined with the stress and confusion just from being around Lilly had taken their toll. But Lilly saw the purpose in Boss's stride with relief and knew she'd have an out from going home tonight.

"West Virginia State Police just arrested a guy whose blood matches some evidence from a cold job. Kidnapping, suspected murder. We need to pick him up, bring him back here. Solve this case." The Boss's deep baritone was met with a brief silence as the detectives realized they weren't going home; worse, they might spend all night chauffeuring a killer.

"I'll do it, Boss." Lilly spoke up after a few seconds. She had tried to be blasé, but she was definitely too eager to go. A reason not to go home? And she'd get to break a killer?

Boss knew her well enough to let her have it, nodding in agreement and heading back to his office.

Lilly turned her attention to her partner, though she knew he was doing his best to avoid it. It wasn't just the all-night ride that he was resisting, though; he had been trying to put distance between them. It didn't seem like he was mad or anything, just a little less comfortable. She tried to think if she had done something to cause it. She had been a mess, for sure, maybe more than usual, but she didn't think that was it. At the very least, their cases had kept them so busy that they had been split up more often than not.

She…missed him. Of course it was silly. She saw him everyday, and it was just Scotty. The same Scotty who was trying to sneak out before she could hook him into another 14-hour shift.

She thought she'd try her luck anyway.

"Take a ride?"

Scotty had been dreading that question for more than one reason, but he thought he'd stick to the obvious.

"West Virgina is more than a ride. We're talking all night here."

Lilly smiled at his resistance. It wasn't a "no". Maybe there was a chance…just to have her partner there. It would probably be an interrogation after all.

"You got something else going on?" She teased.

Caught with no way out, he grinned. "Was planning on washing my hair actually."

Her soft laughter killed off any last resistance. How long had it been since he had heard that adorable sound? The reality hit him. This wasn't just eager ace detective Lilly Rush. She was still hurting.

"You're still having trouble sleeping, huh?"

Lilly felt like he had caught her at her most private moment. She didn't know why. Hell, it was a simple enough question, and really, she knew he knew, but she wasn't going to talk about it. And that was it.

She expertly diverted attention to his current problem of not getting off his ass to join her.

"Look, you coming or not?"

Okay, so she wasn't going to suddenly open up. At that point Scotty didn't care. He was going to spend a whole night with Lil. And a probable killer, but whatever. He'd take what he could get.

"Yeah, but I'm drivin'."

She laughed to herself. _Of course_ he was driving.

She tossed him the keys. "Then let's go."

* * *

Scotty wondered how she was still having problems. Was it at least getting better? Hard to say, since she was willing to give up her night for a potential psycho. Honestly, part of his willingness to go was from getting to spend time with her, but the other part was that there was no way he was going to let her alone with this freak. And he was now seeing just how right he was.

"John Smith" was damn creepy. He was playing moves straight out of the serial killer's handbook—false name, anal retentive, secret fears of his own, but most worrisome to Scotty, his focus on the beautiful female detective charged with taking him in.

He had been trying his hardest to get to her, but Lilly was as solid as could be. Still unbreakable even with all the cracks she had suffered. They had already been on the road for an hour, at least, taking the long way back on an already long trip. The detectives had been pushing back, but John Smith was determined to let this night unravel on his own terms. Their interaction had been marked by periods of silence, one side not acknowledging the other. Scotty sensed this guy wanted to talk, just not about anything good.

"Your perfume, it's flowery. Not what I'd expect from someone in your position." Smith's voice was sickening, the cliché ploy having it's intended affect—but just on Scotty who was surprised to see Lilly cracking a smile out of the corner of his eye.

"Don't wear it." Oh, it was too good. Lilly putting him right in his creepy killer place.

"Cologne then?" Smith hadn't been fazed by the setback, merely intrigued.

Scotty wasn't having any of it. "It's aftershave. Nothing flowery about it."

_Floral my ass. _Suddenly he felt self-conscious. Did Lilly think he smelled flowery? Did she notice how he smelled at all? She may not wear perfume, but Lilly definitely had a signature scent. Subtle, it always caught him unawares. When he leant over her to look at a file, when he followed her into a room...

_Focus, idiot!_ What the hell was he doing, one, letting a killer get into his head, and two, not concentrating solely on trying to get a confession? He was basically a detriment at this point.

His feelings, the lack of sleep, this sick son-of-a-bitch…Scotty felt himself crumbling under the weight. He was well aware of his bad temper to begin with, but this time, he felt the break coming, his stomach churning.

John Smith was giving them nothing. There was a woman out there who could still be alive.

He was tormenting Lilly.

Before he even knew what he was doing, he had stopped the car and yanked Smith out of the back and onto the pavement. Scotty so thought it would help. But it never really did. Plus, Smith was laughing, taking great satisfaction in the fact that he had finally got one of the detectives to break. Scotty hated that he had given him that pleasure; he hated that he had let Smith get to him; he hated that Lilly thought he was unstable, that she was rightfully mad at him for trying to protect her from a threat that didn't exist. Once again, Scotty learned the hard way that his beautiful partner didn't need his superman act. Plus, he lost driving privileges. As if being in the West Virginia boonies at 3AM wasn't bad enough.

* * *

After a couple of hours, the team back in Philly confirmed this guy was a sick serial killer. Choosing different women in different cities from videos of their lives that he edited and taking away what they loved 'til they couldn't live anymore. Scotty and Lilly hadn't seen the basement dungeons in the grungy neighborhoods, but Scotty couldn't wrap his head around the horror. What kind of evil would even think to…?

Considering everything, Lilly was holding up incredibly well. She had even got Smith to show some of his cards. His last victim, the one whose crime scene evidence started this whole thing, she was still alive. Somewhere. That's why he had messed up. Why the state troopers had caught him. She defied his plan for her, his tried and true torture. But Lilly couldn't get him to say where. And they we're getting awfully close to home. There was any number of possible neighborhoods in Philly where Smith would go unnoticed, and his victim was running out of time.

Smith was saying that there was a place, in the woods right off of the road they were on that held the answers. Scotty was hesitant. It was a wild goose chase. She wouldn't be there; a serial killer wouldn't change his successful strategy. But when Smith correctly identified the marker in the road, both detectives knew they would have to follow him into the woods. And Scotty felt Lilly's restraint weaken.

Into the woods again. With yet another serial killer. Who targets women. _Women that could be me. _The irony of the situation was not lost on Lilly despite her overworked, overtired synapses. She just had to get him to break. She could save that trapped woman. She knew she could.

The clearing they came to was appropriately eerie in the moonlight. The silver light exposed the remnants of the well. Which lead to John Smith's story. And suddenly, Lilly's gun pointed at him.

Scotty felt the electricity shoot up his spine.

"Don't, Lil." His words were quiet but wrought. He couldn't let her do it. He wouldn't be able to save her, even if this guy had it coming more than he had ever known. But he had to stop her from killing the killer in the woods.

"Tell me where she is, Smith! Tell me!" She was shaking, from rage, from fear.

"If only you had videos of your own," he said, his cloying voice cutting through the night. "Of course, there'd be no one in them, no one to show them to."

"Shut up." Her voice was breaking. Her will was breaking.

"Go ahead! Shoot me!" Smith was nearly giddy.

She wanted to pull the trigger. She really did. But it wouldn't be enough. A woman would likely die. Smith had been working up to this moment the whole ride. He wanted to die. And he wanted to make Lilly his last victim.

She distantly heard Scotty trying to talk her down. He was voicing everything her rational mind was telling her. John Smith should be forced to have the same fate as the women he tortured. Jail would be worse than death.

But what about her? She had no videos of her love for a child, for a lover, for God, for anything. Was it worth it to live solely for the dead? Was it worth not dying in that observation room?

"Go on, detective, shoot me! You can't save her! How does it feel, to fail at the only thing left?"

Across the clearing, Smith's taunting was eating at Scotty even worse than its intended target. Scotty knew she was strong enough to beat it, to put the gun down. She had lots to live for, right? Sure, she was all about the job, but the good she did…would that have been enough to keep her alive? Why was he even thinking about it? Lilly would never be trapped away by this psycho or anyone else. And she would never lose her fight. She always fought. No matter how little she had to fight for.

Her mind winning out, Lilly turned the tension into something.

"If she's dead, Smith, then why haven't you told us her story? You didn't have any problem sharing the others! Go ahead, tell us! Tell me how you did it, how you broke her."

Smith had tried to convince himself that his victim's hope was gone, that she was dead by now. But Lilly had forced his hand again. If he didn't talk, they'd know for sure she was alive. Then he got sloppy. Letting slip the tally marks on the wall for each day past, the church bells…

"I know that song." She spoke so softly, reluctant to regain hope. But then it hit her.

That church.

She was in Lilly's childhood neighborhood. Lilly could find her.

"Scotty!" She called out. Her voice had changed. The anger had subsided, but the urgency had grown. "I know where she is."

Through a rush of emotions, Scotty managed to sputter out, "Go, Lil. Go! I got him."

As he watched her rush away into the trees, he thought about his position in the middle of a forest in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the night with no cell reception and a now defeated serial killer.

He cracked a smile.

He would happily stay here as long as it took if it meant that they—she—could save the day.

* * *

**AN:** I know, it's not romantic or particularly original, but it's the catalyst! Don't worry, everybody! I'll get them together soon, I swear!


	8. Chapter 8

It had been a ridiculous idea, but here they were anyway, the whole team together at Jones', their tab covered by their fellow cops in celebration of the day's events. Despite no one getting any sleep the night before and a frantic morning rescue followed by a day filled with paperwork and evidence logging, it hadn't been hard to get everyone to agree to a quick drink.

It wasn't everyday that cold case got to rescue someone. Or put a serial killer in the cage he belonged in.

News of their success had spread to the entire precinct by the time Scotty finally got back from those West Virginia woods. Everyone in blue had decided it was a night for celebration.

Neither Lilly nor Scotty had gone home in the last 48 hours. They had spent the whole day working intently, not breaking for a minute, even though the rest of the squad had all come in to help. They had different reasons for not wanting to take a second to think, to rest, but the result was the same. They wouldn't stop until there was absolutely nothing left to do.

In the frenzy of the morning, Lieutenant Stillman had let them finish what they started—rescue the woman, jail the killer. Even when the excitement had died down, he let them furiously go through the paperwork, knowing that even if he tried, there would be no way they would let this case alone. Finally, near the end of the day, when he saw them stretching out their last tasks, eying old files, he knew he had to take a stand before his two best agents worked themselves to death or insanity. Whichever came first.

"Lil, Scotty, you two have the day off tomorrow," he hardly paused a second before adding, "and that's an order."

"Boss—" Lilly's eyes shot up from her work.

"No excuses, Lil. I don't want to see you tomorrow. Understood?" Boss didn't let the pleading he saw in those blue eyes deter him. This was what was best.

Boss had nearly made it to his door when he turned back to face his somewhat dejected detectives. "Now get out of here," he nudged with a smile, "everyone's waiting for you two at Jones'."

* * *

They were greeted with cheers as soon as they stepped through the door. But despite the energy of the room and their gratitude at having one more thing between them and their thoughts, neither was particularly up for this party. Scotty was faring better, spinning a tale of events that made them seem like superheroes, joking around with Vera and the group that had gathered around him. Lilly knew she should join in, but even the thought of it made her feel bone tired. So she did the best she could. She sat and smiled and nodded and drank what was put in front of her.

In between stories, Scotty would notice her, sitting quietly, too quietly even for her. It wasn't just the lack of sleep; she had always managed to put on a decent show before. He felt that there was something swimming around just under the surface, that this time, Lilly's front was looking to fall apart at the seams.

He wanted to be there for her. But there was no chance of that with every cop in town gathered around. He would have to wait.

She may have been exhausted, but Lilly didn't want to go home. Between sips and smiles, she kept thinking about how without knowing it, Boss had done the one thing John Smith kept threatening to do—he took away the one thing she cared about. Work. Rationally, she knew it was just for a day, but emotionally, she wasn't sure she could withstand one more thing being taken away. So much had been taken from her already. Did Smith get the last piece? Did she really have nothing left? _Is there anyone they can call?_

Slowly, the lack of sleep caught up with rest of the team, and one by one they left, congratulating each other once more for a job well done. Seeing his opportunity, Scotty worked his way out of the group of remaining guys to join Lilly.

Soon it was just the two of them, Lilly and Scotty, silently sitting across from each other.

Scotty had been waiting for this moment, but now, he didn't know what to say. Looking at her, it was like she wasn't even in the same room; she was fighting something that as far as he could tell was tearing her apart. He wanted to be there to catch the pieces. And he would wait as long as it took.

Noticing her partner's stare, Lilly suddenly found herself thinking about something she almost never did.

She wanted to reach out.

She had to get her confirmation from someone on the outside, someone who knew her. Someone who she cared about. Someone who could be the proof that Smith was wrong about her.

That she wasn't alone.

"Scotty?" She asked, as if she wasn't sure he'd respond at all.

"Yeah, Lil?" He replied, much more steadily than he felt.

"Do I have you?"

She immediately regretted saying it like that. She regretted saying anything at all. But just like when she called Kite in a drunken state that usually belonged to her mother, the words tumbled out, already beyond her control, making a mess of everything. _At least more of a mess than things already are._

"I mean, you know, we're partners, but…outside of partners?" She tried to fix it, stumbling over the fog of sleep deprivation, booze, and emotion.

"I mean…what I'm trying to—what I wanted to say…"

It was no use. She felt the heat radiating from her cheeks. She was doomed to be embarrassed, to push him away, to reinforce her emotional barriers so she wouldn't make another stupid mistake.

So she laughed awkwardly and flashed a half-hearted smile before staring at her beer, letting her defenses regain their position.

"Never mind." She gave her head a shake. "Sorry, Scotty. I…I guess I'm just—"

"Always."

She was absolutely stunned. _This cannot be real._

"What?" She managed to spit out.

_It's do or die, Valens. Or maybe do and die. _The panic was starting to gnaw at his stomach. He had blurted it out. It seemed right, considering what they had just been through. Everything they had been through. Everything he felt. He knew what she was asking and why. He could just answer truthfully, without having to come up with some way of telling her what he knew was true. _'Specially since most of the time I'm worse with words than Lil is now._

Just one word—even if it might send her running.

He softly put his hand over hers. She was warmer than he had imagined. The contact caused her blue eyes to come shooting up, looking for some sort of explanation.

"Always, Lil. Always."


	9. Chapter 9

Right after he stopped talking, he moved his hand to the side. The gesture was so quick that it could have been mistaken for a move solely to get her attention, if his heart weren't beating its way out of his chest, and he weren't still staring deeply into her eyes.

Every emotion tore through her. A single quiet word causing a rockslide. More than anything, she was suddenly overwhelmed by her desire to sleep. Any boldness in the alcohol had worn off and she was left with only exhaustion. She couldn't process the situation, let alone come up with something to say.

Still staring intently, Scotty saw the currents running underneath, but mostly he saw her. Any illusion of normality she had created had vanished.

She looked like the ghost of his dreams.

"C'mon, Lil. Let me take you home." His voice was soft as he moved out of the booth to stand beside her, treading carefully on their new ground.

She looked up at him blankly. "No, no, Scotty, I'm fine." Lilly Rush had become child-like, a toddler protesting her bedtime.

Her demeanor was enough for him to help her out of her seat—Lily wouldn't be fighting him tonight. And when he had held her hand…it had felt…he just wasn't sure he'd be able to let it go.

"Yeah, sure you are, Lil, but I'm still takin' you home," He shook his head as she wiggled a little in his grasp.

She came to a firm stop. "Scotty, I don't need…I don't want this to be…because of…" She was pleading, ashamed almost, untrusting in that someone could want to help her, but wanting so desperately to accept.

If she could just let him take care of her. Just this once.

He smiled at her. "That ain't got nothin' to do with it. I don't want the beat cops who pick you up when you're fallin' over yourself on the way home to call me in the middle of the night. I need my beauty rest."

With that, her last protests fell aside easily, comfortable with the joking, big-ego Scotty she knew. Comfortable knowing he wouldn't push when she was so close to the edge. At least this time. He knew her so well it was scary. Or it would have been if Lilly had been aware enough to process it.

Now if she could only forget about his strong hands leading her out the door.

* * *

The night air had shocked her a little into focus. She still couldn't sort though the things in her head, but she at least had enough wits about her to unlock her own front door.

Scotty stepped inside with her, not wanting to lose this newfound proximity. She had let him touch her, a hand on her shoulder, her arm, little things, but completely new to them. The thought of things going back to the way they had been was too much. But he couldn't fall apart now. It was his time to be utterly composed. Only one of them could work out this mess at a time, and he knew her enough to know that if he had any chance of moving forward, he better let her have some time alone.

He stepped away from her, convinced she was awake enough to stand, when suddenly he felt the weight of his own sleeplessness cover him.

He stifled a yawn, trying to save face. "Now I know you won't be makin' trouble tonight, I guess I'm gonna head home."

Lilly looked up from Olivia and Tripod at her feet to see Scotty standing in the doorway. In the moonlight, he practically looked like a zombie. Despite the terror of realizing how bad she might look compared to him, she wasn't going to let him leave. It was her turn to take care of him.

"No way you are making it back alive, Valens." Before she even realized what she was saying, she added, "You're staying here tonight. The daybed's all made up."

* * *

She shut the door and led him on a quick tour, the kitchen, the bathroom, the spare room, all faster than her mind could catch up, before it could scream _what the hell are you thinking?!_ What was she thinking? Scotty, staying in her home? When she was a hair away from some sort of emotional breakdown? When he just said he'd "always" be there for her? No one had ever lived up to that promise. And here she was falling for it.

It her body was working from muscle memory. She was treating this like she would a case, leading him around her home, her personal space, as if it were just another day at the office. Her emotional circuitry had been fried. Now it was just about making sure Scotty didn't fall asleep standing up. He didn't have her tolerance for sleep deprivation.

They had reached the daybed without Scotty saying a single word.

Finally recovering from the shock of this completely unexpected turn of events, he managed get his head on straight. He couldn't stay. She was just loopy from being tired.

He managed to spit out, "Lil, don't get me wrong, I appreciate it, but…"

One look at her ended his protest. She wasn't losing her mind. This was what Lilly wanted. There was something else there—fear, maybe; confusion—but this was right.

"Are you sure?"

"Sure, I'm sure, Scotty." It sounded much more confident than she felt. "We both need to sleep as soon as humanly possible. Besides, you don't want anybody else seeing you looking as bad as you do," she teased.

In reality, even in his incredibly disheveled state, Scotty Valens was the most attractive man in Philadelphia, a thought that jumped into Lilly's mind with frightening force.

"Thanks, Lil. Goodnight."

His voice shocked her back into control, though if she didn't find a way to turn off her brain soon, the tidal wave forming there was bound to wash her away.

"'Night, Scotty." She was almost out the door when she paused. "Scotty?"

There weren't enough words to say what she wanted. If she even really knew what she wanted to say. But in the warm glow of the bedside lamp, her eyes told the whole story.

"Thank you."

She turned and walked out, not looking back.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I am so sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up! I am having a hard time with this writing thing, but I want my few loyal readers out there to know that I will absolutely not leave you hanging. Thank you for reading! I will try to make it worth your while!


	10. Chapter 10

The autopilot that had been guiding her through the last hour suddenly turned off. She was standing in the middle of her own room, staring at the bed that had lain untouched for months. Her folly in letting Scotty stay was truly sinking in. Was she ready to sleep here? Way more importantly, would she be able to keep her nightmares from him? He would know somehow, and he would run in, and he would see her—really see her—and the truth she had worked so hard to keep hidden. She was entering a state of full-on, completely irrational panic, the kind she experienced only in her dreams. She would not let it overtake her reality. She let her eyelids fall shut and took in a deep breath.

Her heart gradually slowed to a normal rate, and the pain in her chest and her head started to fade away. Scotty wouldn't discover anything more from a few rooms away than he would from across the city. As for the transition back to her own bed, she came to realize it was as good a time as any. With everything that had happened, she had other, more pressing concerns. The reality was, she was too tired to worry.

Using her last bit of energy, she turned off the lights.

* * *

He was in Lilly's home. He had hardly spent an hour total at her place before, let alone a whole night. In fact, he couldn't remember ever having been left alone here, for more than a second anyway.

Well, he definitely hadn't scared her away.

Not yet, at least. She was probably still reeling. He was. His emotional confusion was the only thing keeping him from doing a little detective work—that, and his utter exhaustion. He wouldn't tempt fate tonight more than he already had.

He slipped off his shoes, out of his suit, and into bed.

It smelled just like Lilly.

_This is gonna be an interesting night._ He flicked off the light.

* * *

_"Lilly? Lilly? Is there anyone we can call? Do you have anyone we can call?" _

She woke up silent, sweaty, the same as always.

Almost.

The response was the same, her hand still resting on her chest, but the dream, this panic she had experienced the same way, over and over again, every night for months, this time, it was different. This time she did have someone to tell the doctors about. Scotty. She had desperately wanted to say "Scotty." Her terror was that it wouldn't come out. She couldn't tell them his name. And that sucked all the air from her more than any bullet.

Was she that desperate not to be alone? Not to fall prey to whatever deranged killer would enter her life next? Just because Scotty had said "always" after an all-night drive and couple of drinks, he was now not only her emergency contact but her saving grace?

_No._ She buried her head in her hands. This was about more than that. More than a killer's mind games, more than the exhaustion. She felt it deeply, even after the haze of the dream world had completely worn off.

This time, she was afraid not of being alone—but of not being with him.

When had this happened? When exactly did she start thinking of him as more than a partner? He was her best friend, but it wasn't like they had worked at it. It just happened. He had her trust, a gift she so rarely bestowed on others. He had managed to keep it even through their rougher patches. Of course he was also boyishly charming and one of the few people that could make her laugh with regularity, and that smile...

Friend was one thing, but Lilly was getting dangerously close to thinking about her partner in a way that the department would not be happy with.

_Do I want him? Like that? _

She was distracted from this increasingly disturbing line of thought by low moans coming from somewhere in the house. Despite generally being on edge, these just aroused her curiosity, and she almost instantly identifying them as coming from Scotty. He was probably just sleep talking, but the autopilot she had lost earlier was back stronger than ever as she crept out of bed to crack open the door. She wanted to investigate. No, she couldn't. Shouldn't. It would be weird to check on him, wouldn't it? But something within her was pushing her out the door.

Besides, she wouldn't be going back to sleep anytime soon.

As she padded softly down the hall, the noises turned into distinctive words. "...No...Please..."

Her fingers rested on the doorknob, unsure of what to do next. This had to be crossing some sort of line. Just because he was in her house…

"...Lilly..."

Her heart stopped. Only the moans that followed started it up again. He was still asleep. But now she knew for sure she shouldn't be there. She shouldn't even ask him about it in the morning. She turned away only to be stopped again.

"...Stay..."

She was absolutely still. He was sounding more upset. More agitated.

"...Please...Please..."

She felt oddly compelled, as if she had a real connection to his pain, whatever it was. Inspired by his sleeping commands or perhaps regaining her sleepless courage, Lilly slowly opened the door a crack to see Scotty, tossing in bed, his face distorted in the moonlight.

Seeing that he hadn't woken, she took a step in and whispered softly, "Scotty?"

No response. Just his continuing pleas. "...Please...Lil...No, no, no..."

She felt unusually protective. Maybe he'd be embarrassed to know she was here, but maybe, maybe she could help him.

In a move she hadn't used for years, not since she and Christina were kids, she sat on the edge of the bed next to him, quietly, gently, and took his hand in hers. "I'm right here, Scotty."

Almost immediately, he stopped struggling, and Lilly sighed softly. Then suddenly, she felt her head hit the pillow. Still asleep, Scotty had managed to wrap his arm around her waist and lay her down, hugging her to his chest.

Before she could process what had happened or how to get out of this increasingly bad, wonderful, terrible situation, he was mumbling again.

"Stay," he murmured into her hair, "Lil...love you."

She could not have possibly heard those words. No. Not while she was snuggled up in his arms, in her daybed. This couldn't be...he was still asleep, right? It wasn't real. He was still asleep. He didn't say those words. She was still in his arms though.

This was so not what she had expected to happen.

As her mind raced at warp speed, she became acutely aware that he had started to sleep peacefully, his grasp around her relaxing but still strongly secure. It was so easy to be there, so snug, that she almost could forget how uncomfortable the situation was. Almost. How would she get out? She couldn't slip out. Each time she tried to slowly inch away, he pulled her back. She couldn't wake him, at least not now. If tonight was any indication, he had been having his own troubles with getting a full night's sleep, and she certainly wasn't going to deprive him of that. Not to mention waking him up while she was in his bed would mean a lot of awkward explanation.

She would just have to wait for an opening. Then she could sneak away, go back to her room, get up in the morning, and pretend none of this ever happened. Not her checking on him, not his dreaming pleas, not the handholding, not the "love," and definitely not the spooning. None of it.

But for now, she could at least snuggle up in the warmth of his powerful body to escape the chill that had settled in the room. As she lay there, feeling his breathing, she had an unusual thought. If she could pretend tomorrow, she could pretend now. This wasn't him; this wasn't her. This was just a moment, brought on by sleep deprivation and happenstance, and it didn't have to be hampered by this whole new set of confusing feelings that had arisen in the course of the night. She could just disconnect and be happy to be in a pair of arms that held her like they would always be there for her—even if always was really just tonight.

An odd sense of calm swept over her, only to be followed closely by her ever-present drowsiness, and Lilly couldn't help but close her eyes as Scotty held her close. The anxiety of the situation should have been keeping her awake, but nothing in Lilly's head seemed to work as it should. As she drifted further from consciousness, her focus rested solely on the feeling of being next to Scotty. How even in his sleep, it felt so much like love.

* * *

**Author's Note**: Sorry about the delay and the not-so-great writing! Thank you all for reading as this story continues to develop a will of its own.


	11. Chapter 11

Scotty awoke slowly from his deep sleep, savoring the light on his face and the comfort of his body. The room around him was peaceful, quiet but for the faint sounds of city life in the distance and a soft meowing.

_Meowing?_

On Olivia and Tripod's cue, he remembered—he was at Lilly's, in the bed that smelled like her. In fact, it magically smelled even more like her than it had the night before.

Throwing off the remnants of sleep, he slowly opened his eyes, adjusting to the light only to see beautiful blonde hair splayed across the pillow next to him and his arms possessively holding its owner.

It had to be some kind of good dream. Scotty had practically forgotten what those were like. But this one was incredibly real. Too real. He had to wake up, protect himself from the disappointment of it not being true. He closed his eyes.

_C'mon Valens, time to get up._

Slowly, he opened them once again. He still felt her. This was no dream. He was holding Lilly Rush.

_My God. _

His heart would have won the Indy500.

Could he just pretend to be asleep and keep holding her, savoring each conscious moment, knowing that when she woke whatever had drawn her to him in the night would be completely gone, knowing that he might never get a moment like this again?

The night before, he had been worried about losing the little moments they had so newly gained, and here he was, cradling her, and she wasn't hurt or in danger, she was just there. What with any other woman would have been first date territory for Scotty Valens was now holy ground, something that he had trekked months, years, to reach.

What had happened? Had he somehow taken advantage of her distressed state? He certainly didn't remember asking her to stay. He didn't remember seeing Lilly after she had left him in the room with two words, "thank you," two words that meant more than she would ever know. What was she doing thanking him? He was just doing the only thing he could, being there for her. He was in love with her. He had been even before he had been able to put words to the feeling. It was like thanking the ocean for being wet.

She had probably just come in during the night, but why? It was incredibly unlike Lilly. Or it would be if it had been about her, but if it had been about him… Had he done something to make her detective instinct kick in? Did he accidently knock something over? Roll on to Tripod? Then Scotty remembered how his brother used to tease him about his sleep talking. Maybe she had heard him mumbling. Maybe she had heard more than mumbling. _Oh, God._ Did he have that dream last night? He couldn't remember, but he also couldn't remember the last time he had slept peacefully until the sun came through the window. He had to have dreamt about Lilly. And Lilly had to have heard it. Now he didn't even want to think about how she got into his arms. There was no way this would end well. As for savoring the moment in the present, he realized his own body would give him away if he stayed as close as he was.

But there was no way he was waking her up. He didn't want to bring on the inevitable awkwardness or worse any sooner than he had to. Plus, she looked so peaceful, for the first time in, well, probably as long as he knew her. She needed this sleep. Months worth of it.

He carefully inched his body away from hers, stopping at even the slightest hint of movement. But still he held her. He couldn't let go. Consequences be damned. Besides, it seemed like Lilly wanted him there. Okay, there was no way to actually know that, but it felt like it. A gut instinct.

Scotty Valens and Lilly Rush fit perfectly.

* * *

Lilly felt warm. So pleasantly warm from the inside out and back in again. The sun falling across her face caused her eyelids to flutter open slowly, adjusting to the light. She felt rested, contented.

_Wait a second._

Her room didn't have sunlight like this in the morning. Had she actually slept until morning? She wasn't in her room. _I'm not in my room. _

_Oh, God._

All of last night came hurtling back at her. "Always." Scotty in her home. Sleeping in her room. Her dream. His dream. "Stay, Lil." His embrace. "Love you." _Love you._

_Oh, God._

His arms were still around her. Could she escape before he woke? Maybe it wasn't too late? It was too late. She felt him stirring; she could only freeze.

"Hey…Good morning." Scotty had been thinking of just how to break the ice when she woke up, and as he unwrapped his arms from around her and propped himself up on the pillow, he was pleased with the result. Drowsy and slightly confused. No embarrassment, no longing.

"Good morning." Lilly sat up as quickly as she could to face him, trying to meet his gaze, hoping that her face wasn't already bright red. She soon realized she was in the exact position she had first sat down in last night, but now Scotty was looking straight at her, hair disheveled, bare armed. Her head dropped. Now the warmth was definitely uncomfortable.

Olivia had capitalized on the new space between her human and this man and walked right in between them, curling up in the warm spot that Lilly had just occupied.

Lilly looked at her cat, now enjoying being stroked by Scotty, and for a sliver of a second, she so wished it were her instead. Couldn't they just go back to sleep? Couldn't they just go back a few hours, a few days, so this wouldn't have happened? She had to find a way to get out of this bed without discussing any of it. But she couldn't. She couldn't think of anything to say. She just sat there, praying that if maybe she could endure the awkward silence something would just come up and fix everything.

"So…" Scotty considered his words carefully. "Looks like we got the rest the boss ordered, huh?"

"Yeah," Lilly managed, seizing the opportunity to stop looking at him and look at the clock instead. "10:43?" Lilly was genuinely astonished. "Good thing we had the day off."

Scotty sat up further, equally surprised. "Whoa. No kiddin'."

This was it, this was her chance to get up—why was it harder to think of what to say now than when she was tipsy and sleep deprived?

"Well, I guess you should go try and enjoy what's left of it. I—I'll put on some coffee for your ride home." She stood, willing her legs both not to run and to just keep standing.

"Yeah, sure. That'd be great. Thanks, Lil."

She left. So they weren't going to talk about it. Scotty couldn't decide whether this was for better or worse. The only thing he knew for sure was that underneath the confusion and embarrassment and longing, he felt revived. The sleep had helped his body, sure, but holding Lilly—that helped the most.

* * *

After Lilly had left his room, everything happened so fast; it was only a few minutes before Scotty was ready to leave. By the time they had said their "see you tomorrows", the closeness of their night had faded away almost completely, old boundaries resurfacing under the direct daylight and in unhindered brains. But as Lilly showed Scotty out, something at the back of her consciousness kept tugging at her. She had heard him say it, dream or not. Somehow, she knew it was true. It terrified her. But she needed it. Desperately.

Someone loved her. Scotty loved her.

And… she loved him back.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Dear Readers, I need you to know that your reviews consistently make my day, and I hope that I can continue to earn your good will!


	12. Chapter 12

Lilly was beyond glad to get back into work the next day. She had spent the entirety of the day and night before alternating between a wide range of emotions with very little rhyme or reason. She did feel, however, that they were all a result of her overactive mind over-processing what had happened. Which was really nothing at all! So they slept together. That's just it—they slept. So what? So he sleep talks. So what if he was dreaming about her. And yes, she loved him, but it was friend love, brother love, partner love. The kind of love normal people didn't think twice about saying out loud, when they said goodbye to each other, when things were tough, when they felt it. It wasn't love love. Clearly. It couldn't be. This was Scotty. Right?

Her brain couldn't handle any more of this. Caffeine probably wasn't the best idea, but she headed to the kitchenette anyway, hoping beyond hope that someone would be there to take her mind off of what her mind was currently on.

She walked in to find Vera, who she never thought she'd be so happy to see, but right next to him, turning from the fridge to face her, was Scotty. Of course. How had it completely escaped her that he'd be here too? With Vera there, she had to play it cool. Be normal.

"Hey."

"Hey, Lil."

"Whoa, what happened?" Leave it to the two of them to have their first moment back together be in front of the most vocal member of the squad.

"What are you talkin' about, Vera?" Scotty put up a good front, but it was useless. Vera may not have been the quickest guy around, but he was a detective, and their friend. Besides, even the most clueless person of the street would have picked up on the weird vibe.

Vera, unsurprisingly, did not back down. He continued with his interrogation, squinting and pointing for emphasis. "What's with you two?"

Lilly looked at Scotty. He was just as lost as she was. "Well, uh…"

Only Kat's entrance saved them. She shot Vera a dirty look as she strode to the coffee pot. "Lay off, Nick."

Immediately on the defensive, he threw up his hands like a 9-year-old caught making his brother cry. "What? I didn't do anything!"

Kat rolled her eyes. "Whatever you were doing, just leave them alone, would you?"

Vera changed tactics, hoping to get his partner in on the intrigue. "Somethin's goin' on with them."

Kat, thankfully for Lilly and Scotty, was having none of it. "Look, you try an all-nighter with me and a serial killer, and see how we do." Her stare told Vera everything he needed to know. He wasn't going to get anywhere. At least not with Kat around.

"Alright, fine. Sheesh. What happens when you try asking detectives questions..." Vera headed back out to the bullpen.

As he left, Lilly glanced over at Kat who nodded reassuringly and followed her partner out.

The team may not have known what had happened the night before, but they were definitely picking up the changes. Of course they were. It was their job. At least with Kat laying off, they had some cover. Lilly knew that if someone could find the truth, it would be Kat. Vera and Jeffries she could probably convince that she was just in one of her hard-core ice queen phases, for whatever reason. The resulting assumption that Scotty had done something to upset her would be fine by her. It was certainly better than the truth. And it meant they would leave it alone—they wouldn't want to turn her wrath onto them.

But how long did they have? Lilly certainly didn't want to talk to him about it. She didn't want to talk to him about anything, at least until she knew how she was feeling. Or knew how to control it. She generally prided herself on her ability to keep her secrets exactly that, but Scotty…he just knew her, somehow. And if she were alone with him with no work to distract them, he'd know that her stomach suddenly was topsy-turvy when he was around. And that couldn't possibly be helpful in trying to make everything less awkward.

She realized that exactly what she didn't want to happen was happening. She had been left alone with Scotty in the break room. She summoned her last shred of sanity and managed to throw him a smile as she rushed back to her desk.

* * *

Scotty watched her intently. She was so beautiful. Even when she first woke up. He loved that he knew that, but oh, did he hate how he knew that. Here he was, staring at his partner, a woman he had worked with, trusted his life to, for years, a woman who he now loved in a tragic sort of way, knowing he could never be with her, and all he could think about was her perfect face on the pillow next to his. In fact, it was all he could think about even when she was nowhere around, like the night before when he had tossed and turned searching for the comfort he had when she was in his arms.

But he couldn't. He couldn't keep doing this. He loved her, but she didn't love him, at least like that. And he needed to keep being a partner. Because as much as it would hurt to live like this, it would kill him if he couldn't see her every day. So he needed to tune in to what was actually happening around the coffee pot this morning and start doing some damage control because he knew there was no way they could just be normal. Especially after the vibe that had happened when she first walked in.

Unfortunately, by the time Scotty came back up to the surface, Kat had just gone and Lilly glanced at him for a split second before following suit.

This was different. She wasn't mad at him. If she were mad at him, she wouldn't have smiled. A smile that was serving some purpose, yes, but for a smile to be a part of Lilly's defenses…well, that was new. Maybe she was feeling something she couldn't—or didn't—want to hide under the ice.

Scotty scolded himself for hoping. She couldn't ever love him. And even if somehow she did, they couldn't be together.

It was his turn to buck up, plaster on a smile, and head out into the bullpen.

* * *

**Author's Note: **I'm so sorry for the delay! Thank you for still reading, and I promise to do better in the future!


	13. Chapter 13

The week went by and despite their best efforts to not let their dynamic change, there was no denying it had.

They were just off—avoiding each other, missing cues, left tongue-tied in conversations—and instead of getting better with time, it was just getting worse. And not just during the day. Both detectives were back to their patterns of dream-filled nights, and the coffee pot was in constant need of refilling. Especially as they both threw themselves headlong into work.

It was late, but Lilly still sat at her desk, once again reviewing the situation with Scotty, hoping to have some sort of breakthrough, some idea of how to get things back to normal. The event in question was embarrassing, sure, but that was it. Awkward and moving on. Right? No, not right. She couldn't speak for Scotty, but Lilly had been thinking about it all the time. All the time. She had been thinking about him.

She even had gone back to sleeping on the daybed, not because her room was any more threatening, but her nights were overrun by him, by wanting him, and somehow, despite the changed sheets that smelled like detergent and nothing of warmth and spice, being there was being close to him. It was pathetic. Lilly had never acted like this. Not as a teenager, not with her fiancé—either one. She felt so guilty that someone or just her cats or the furniture in the room might find out her secret, that she wasn't getting any more sleep than she would suffering through her dreams. She was a mess. More than usual.

Sitting surrounded by her camouflage of case files while the room emptied out, she felt everything crumbling. They had picked up another case earlier on, a robber who had tried to go straight after his release from prison, but even with an active one to focus on, everything went straight back to the man sitting just a desk away.

This never happened. Work was always the one guaranteed escape, the one way to avoid whatever was bothering her. Of course it didn't help that what she wanted to avoid was thinking of her partner. Especially this terrifying idea that kept popping up that he was the one who would stay. She had never really thought about it before, assuming somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew that one day he'd be gone, too, just like everyone else who had once held places in her heart. Did Scotty have a place in her heart? Well, he certainly did now. Loving him…the one who will stay…her thoughts were decidedly less applicable to friendship by the minute. And she couldn't handle that. All she had to do was look down at the file in front of her, try to lose herself in details of the case, even if she had already read them multiple times.

* * *

He had sat at his own desk under the pretense of work, but really, Scotty just stared at her. Most of the room had cleared out earlier in the evening, and Lilly herself appeared consumed by the case. Something was different though. He just knew it. The question was whether he should talk to her about it. Whether he should put his own feelings out there and risk ever getting back what they had. He wanted to, but everything told him he shouldn't. He couldn't lose her. It was so much easier just to steal these glances, where she looked beautiful even under the harsh fluorescents, and imagine a day when he could hold her again. He was an addict. Every thought, waking or otherwise, was focused on getting that next high.

He was startled by the clanking of blinds against the glass of the Lieutenant's door.

"Scotty. Lil. My office."

Scotty caught Lilly's quick glance before she moved into the office. He followed, but slower, not wanting to know what this impromptu meeting was about.

The detectives stood at the opposite ends of the room as Stillman sat behind his desk, still intimidating despite his apparent weariness.

"Go home. Both of you."

"But, Boss—"

"Look, Scotty. Lil." He softened his tone. "I don't know what's been going on between the two of you, and I don't need to know, but I do need you to get it together. So go home. Get some sleep. And then do whatever you have to do to fix whatever you have to fix."

The room went silent. The Lieutenant stared at them until both detectives had acknowledged that this was an order, and they weren't getting out of it.

He let out a sigh. "Okay. Go home."

Scotty left, but now Lilly was the one taking her time. She looked at the Lieutenant, wanting him to understand, wanting him to advise her, feeling their relationship had shifted for this brief second to father-daughter from their usual detective-lieutenant as it had a way of doing from time to time. He looked back at her, and while his gaze didn't hold the answers she sought, she did find strength in it. And a reminder that maybe Scotty wasn't the only one left who cared about her.

She left his office only to come face-to-face with Scotty who was waiting outside the door. Neither knew what to say, really. How could they fix a problem without really knowing what it was? And neither one felt like revealing their side of the truth.

"Wanna walk out together?" Scotty asked, immediately thinking that other wordings would have been better. Or maybe they wouldn't have. He just didn't know at this point.

"Sure." Lilly replied. She felt like each time she spoke to him, she was sending telegraphs, short, precise. Words were precious. And more than ever, each word she said felt like it meant more than she ever meant it to.

They both went to get their things and then headed out, their short walk engulfed in silence.

At the parking lot where they split ways, they tried once more to regain the ease they once shared, though it was getting harder and harder to remember what that felt like.

"So…should we…?" Scotty stumbled. They weren't about to have a heart to heart in the parking lot, and he didn't want to force a conversation he didn't particularly feel like having.

"Talk tomorrow?" Lilly stepped in, trying for blasé, achieving little of it. She was sure of one thing—they both weren't looking forward to this.

He sighed in relief. One more night to figure this out. To figure out how he was going to tell her. "Yeah, tomorrow's great."

"Good. Breakfast? The diner?"

"Perfect. 9AM. I'm buying." Scotty added with a smile, since despite the terror of what would happen at that breakfast, he couldn't help the delight that came with the promise of sharing a meal with Lilly Rush. "I don't think Boss will mind if we're late."

"No, I don't think he will. See you tomorrow, then."

"Tomorrow. 'Night, Lil."

"Goodnight, Scotty." She watched him walk away for a moment before she turned in the other direction.

God, she loved his smile.


	14. Chapter 14

Lilly had been lying in bed for at least an hour, pondering what was promising to be the most complicated conversation of her life. She hated "talks," shoving your guts out into the open just so they could be trampled on by someone you clearly shouldn't have trusted as much as you did. It was so much easier to hurt yourself than to let others hurt you. But as time went on, she growingly doubted that it was any less painful. So should she reveal this half-baked truth to Scotty? Did she love him enough to tell him the truth only to lose him? Worse, could she bear not working with him? Even if somehow this—this potential romantic thing—worked out, she certainly couldn't work with him anymore. It had to be against department rules, right? Was she ready to lose her partner to maybe gain a—what, a boyfriend? A lover? Another man that would leave her? She threw her pillow over her head. So maybe she shouldn't tell him she loved him. But she still had to figure something out. Something to explain why she couldn't just act like a normal human being around him anymore. Something that didn't bring up how she had snuck into his room and fallen asleep in his arms.

Using her last bit of energy, she sat up, readjusted her pillow, and plopped back down, all a bit more aggressively than she intended. She took a deep breath and sighed, staring at the ceiling, feeling the weight of her hands, her arms, her legs, her eyelids. Her body had all about quit on her, kept awake only through the panicked buzzing of her brain.

* * *

Scotty was pacing. Throwing punches in the air to try and break the tension only before realizing the ridiculousness of it all and letting his hands settle on his head, tired and desperate.

How could he tell Lilly that he loved her? To her face? In public? Breakfast was a terrible idea. He couldn't even think of how to tell her if they were locked in an interrogation room together, a box with no windows and no escape but the truth. Maybe he should call her? It would be better over the phone. She could just hang up, not run out. He wouldn't have to see her face when she rejected him, when everything changed. Then they could just avoid each other. He stared at the phone on his bedside table. Just one button to push…and then what? What would he say? And how could he explain calling so late? _Fuck it, I'm just going to do it._ His body went first, grabbing the phone and bringing it to his ear before his brain caught up and shut the whole thing down. He put the phone back down and collapsed into bed. Despite his exhaustion, there was no way he would fall asleep tonight. Not that it would matter. Awake or asleep, there was only one thing on his mind.

* * *

Hours later, her brain had stopped its full-speed haul and was puttering on its last remaining energy, succumbing to the all-too-familiar exhaustion that was taking over. But as her eyes had finally closed, and sleep, if not peace, was near, one remote corner of her brain gave one last ditch effort to sort this problem out.

She suddenly had the overwhelming urge to call him. To bypass all of her logic, all of her defenses, all of the pointless scenarios running through her head.

What's the point of defenses if they're just defending this painful existence? Could confronting her emotions be any worse? Could she break any more? If she lost him, it couldn't be much worse than it was now, pushing him away, avoiding him at every turn.

In a sleepy haze, she propped herself up on her elbow, picked up the phone, and dialed, ignoring every last screaming voice of logic and reason.

He answered before she even had time to realize what she was doing.

"Hello?" He sounded groggy. Oh God. What had she done?

"Scotty, hey..."

The silence was terrifying. And with the adrenaline, all of her brain was back in full force. What was she doing calling him? She wasn't even drunk! Why hadn't she at least gotten drunk? What was she supposed to say? She only knew to at least say hello—hey.

She hoped still meant more than it should.

After an eternity, she had to end it, hang up. She couldn't do this. She couldn't believe she had thought she could do this. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean—I don't know what I was thinking, I'll see you—"

"Lil…"

Still silence followed. But now she knew she had to wait for what he would say. Now she knew they couldn't just dismiss this call.

Scotty was deciding. She had done what he couldn't. Maybe they could talk. Besides, he had to be there for her. He had promised. And he would always keep that promise.

He could be as brave as Lilly.

"Can I come over?"

Before she knew what she said, it had already reached his ear on the other end of the line.

"Yes."

* * *

**Author's Note: **I know it's a little shorter than normal, and I'm still being bad about timely updates, so I apologize! I want to thank you for being so patient and encouraging-knowing you are reading truly means a lot!


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